


I'm Sick of Being Useless

by 191615311



Category: Kamen Rider Drive
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/191615311/pseuds/191615311
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I’m sorry.</i> He wants to say. <i>You deserve another chance at life.</i> And. <i>You deserve to live more than I do.</i> And <i>Why did you sacrifice yourself for me you idiot?</i> And a million other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sick of Being Useless

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I'm sick of being useless!" - Chase/Gou

Gou looks over at Signal Chaser, settled carefully on the table beside the motel bed he’s been sleeping in for the past week. It hasn’t moved since Chase died, hasn’t shown any signs of life at all, of its programming or personality. Whatever life it had seemed to have been an extension of Chase’s and without him…

Another failed attempt at bringing Chase back. That was what the day had been. Another meeting with another person who might have been able to help. Another brief spark of hope followed by another failure. He should have guessed as much.

_I’m sorry._ He wants to say. _You deserve another chance at life._ And. _You deserve to live more than I do._ And _Why did you sacrifice yourself for me you idiot?_ And a million other things but it isn’t like he hasn’t already screamed them all at the bike. Said them a thousand times over when no one was around to hear except the small, inanimate piece of machinery. He feels like it’s judging him, like it’s Chase judging him, asking him why he hasn’t found a way yet. He knows he’s just projecting.

And he’s _angry._ Angry at Chase for being dead, angry at everyone he’s asked for not being able to bring him back, angry at himself for being the reason for all of this. Angry that he hasn’t been able to do anything, that nothing has even been promising, that he has yet to come close to bringing Chase back.

“I’m sick of you being gone! I’m sick of not being able to bring you back! I’m sick of being _useless!_ ” Impulsively he snatches the bike off the table, hurling it at the wall in a moment of overwhelming need to take his anger and pain out on something, anything. He regrets the action the moment it leaves his hand, scrambling across the bed toward it, but the bike just bounces harmlessly off the wall and lands on the floor, laying there as motionless as always. He picks it up, clutching to his chest, mumbling an apology.

“I don’t treat you any better now than I used to.” He curls up on his side on the bed, cradling the shift bike protectively, closing his eyes against the sting of tears. “Come back already, I’m sick of living without you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chase is still fucking dead bye.
> 
> I was gonna like actually edit this at a point but then I didn't and decided I wouldn't.


End file.
